


Asphodel Doe

by TassieSnapeKit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Creature Fic, Evil Albus Dumbledore, Good Dark Side, Good Tom Riddle, M/M, Tom Riddle | Voldemort Adopts Harry Potter, Weasley Family Bashing (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 15:06:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TassieSnapeKit/pseuds/TassieSnapeKit
Summary: When Severus rescues a suicidal homeless child in muggle london, he did not expect his life to change so drastically in such a short amount of time. Truths are revealed and souls are healed.





	1. Asphodel Doe

When Severus Snape ducks into a muggle public loo to apperate back to dreary Spinner’s End before heading to Prince Manor, he does not expect to find a bony, beaten child to be sitting on the floor with shards of a broken mirror gouging into their forearms, vertically. His mouth drops open before he quickly swoops into action. He banishes the broken pieces of mirror the child was using before stopping the bleeding. For a moment he debates what to do with the child. He is not parenting material. Absolutely not, and they were in muggle London, which meant chances were this was a muggle child, starving, beaten in a public loo.

  
Mind made up, Severus gathers the child into his arms and as he apperates them to the nearest muggle hospital, he looks into the child’s eyes. Lily’s eyes, green eyes. He shakes his head, dislodging regretful memories and refocuses. He carries the child into the A&E and quickly addressing the nurse describes what he walked in on.

* * *

 

Freak knows what he has to do now. He was given very clear instructions. He was to use the broken mirror to cut deep into his arms. He was very clear on what this would do. It would make him worthy. It would mean he would be taught what he was worth for forever with his Muma and Dada. There would be no going back the Master and Mistress and little master. No more aching hunger, labored breaths. Oh, Master and Mistress had told him what would happen to him. He would roast with the Devil in hell, alongside his worthless, freaky parents. But Freak didn’t care. He would take the eternal burning if Muma and Dada would be there, without Master and Mistress and little Master.

  
Freak did not hear the man walking into the loo he had been dumped in. He did notice when the mirror shards were taken. No! He was supposed to be worthy with Muma and Dada and be in pain for forever- with them. But when he looked at the man who had gathered him in his arms, his last thought was that he did it after all. Death was taking him to the fires and Muma and Dada and the Devil.

  
When Freak woke up, he was VERY confused. But good, Worthy Freaks did not make noise. They did not talk, they did not look anyone in the eye, and they did absolutely everything they were told, without question or hesitation. They did not take what they did not earn. And the most important rule- Freaks did not read.

  
So when Freak woke up, on a bed that he did not earn, in clothes he was not worthy of, surrounded by people. He did what a good Freak did. He forced himself off the comfortable bed, wriggled out of the clothes that fit him, found a corner and knelt with his eyes on the ground and hands by his side. And waited.

* * *

 

Severus stayed with the child while they tried to find out more information. No Severus was not related to him. No Severus did not know their parents. No Severus had not seen anyone else in the loo. No Severus did not know who the child was. No Severus did not even know what gender the child was. If Severus had to guess he would think the child was about four. No Severus had not spoken to them. Yes, the child did pass out on the way here. Would Severus like to stay and make sure the child was alright- just so the poor thing had someone? And surprisingly- he did, and he blamed the green eyes.

When they went to examine the child, they did not wake up. They cut off the rags the child was clothed in and discovered that the child was male. And almost every inch of him was black and blue or bleeding. All of him. Some of the nurses had to leave to “collect themselves”. Severus looked at the mass on the child’s head and asked if he could wash the filthy locks. The nurse in charge of the child gave him a once over and not finding him lacking, gave him a basin and pitcher. She also gave him terrible shampoo and conditioner, which Severus switched with some he had made without the muggles being aware. It took three goes to really clean the child’s hair and a truly obscene amount of conditioner to work out all the matts and snarls in his hair. Honestly, Severus wasn’t sure that that the locks were worth that much effort, but it gave him something to focus on and really the child could decide if they would rather have easier to maintain hair, who was he to take another choice away from them?  
When the doctors were done taking everything into account, they left, clearly wherever the child came from was not a suitable place and they would not look very hard for a family who did that to a child. The nurses and doctors peered at the dour man who had brought in the small child and giving him an approving nod, left him to wait with the child, trusting he would get them when the child finally woke.

  
Severus waited for three hours. And then the child was awake. Not slowly, but all at once. The body went from relaxed, to rigid and aware. And then those eyes, green eyes, flew open and the child threw himself to the ground in his haste to get off the bed and was out of the hospital pajamas and kneeling in a corner before Severus could react or get the nurses.

  
Wherever the child had come from, he had been trained and trained well. Severus had seen submissives trained for a decade that couldn’t move the way that child did. Severus walked out of the area they had put the child in and called for the attending doctor. “I think that we will be needing to look into child psychiatric facilities” Severus said bluntly. The doctor looked at him incredulously. And Severus let him walk into the room.

He tried not to stare, really he did. He just didn’t know what to make of the situation. The whole thing was strange. Dr. Mehan was good with children. And with the mentally ill and abused. Really, he was the most qualified to handle the child. But this. He just didn’t know. He did what he would do with any other abused child. He told the child where he was. He told the child what had happened. He told the child his name. He asked the child what his name was and how old he was. But the whole thing was unnerving. The child did not move the whole time. Did not make eye contact. Not a single muscle twitched and not a single time did he shift. Not in the whole forty-five minutes he spent trying to talk to him. Finally, he looked back to the man who had brought the child in. He was out of ideas. He had offered him food, toys, tried to get him to put on clothes, get back on the bed. It was like the child was frozen. If this man could manage what he could not he would let him do it his way.

Severus watched the doctor flounder. Watched him try to tempt and cajole the child into moving just an inch. Then he watched the doctor look to him. And so Severus took control. Which, normally he enjoyed, relished in. When the other party was willing. Not a child. But he knew what the child needed and expected and so he locked the feeling of Wrong behind his occlumency shields and did what was needed.

  
Severus walked in front of the boy so that his shoes were in his direct line of sight. Then he spoke: “Boy, what are you addressed by?” The child did not move or speak. Freak knew this game he would not lose. “Boy, get on the bed, now.” And the boy did. Freak knew what was expected, he would earn things now, he would be worthy. But something went wrong. “No, boy. Sit on the bed. I did not tell you to do otherwise.” Properly chastised, Freak did what he was bid. He did not know why this man was calling him boy, he was not worthy of being a boy, like a human. He was a Freak, but he understood that this was what he was to answer to. “Boy, put on the clothes.” Freak had been given an order, so he had to, but he hadn’t earned it. He knew it broke the rule, but he peaked at the man trying to figure out if he should or if it was another test. But one look at the man and he knew this was Death speaking to him. Death would take him to Muma and Dada and make him worthy. And he desperately wanted to be worthy. He resolved to follow all of Deaths commands, be damned if it broke Master and Mistress’s rules. And so Freak put on the clothes that he hadn’t earned. And he lay down on the bed that he wasn’t worthy of. And he drank the broth that he would need to work for. Because Death was going to take him and make him worthy.

  
And then Death asked him to break the rule. The only rule he made for himself. Death asked and wanting to be worthy, he answered the question, “What is your name?” And Freak didn’t understand. Freaks didn’t get names, weren’t worthy of names. Death looked at him and changed the question, “What are we to call you, what did they call you before here?” Death specified.

  
“You can call me what ever you like, Master Death. Before they called me Freak.” Freak answered. Freak did not forget his place. He did not look up, he did not cringe, and he addressed the man as he was.

* * *

 

Dr. Mehan was positively green. How could that man speak to the child that way, after everything he had been through? And yet, the man accomplished what he could not. At the child’s answer to the question, he excused himself and puked.

Severus sneered at the weak- willed doctor. And at the answer the child gave him, he found himself torn, on the one hand he was amused that the child thought that he was Death. But he was enraged. He did not question who would treat a child like this, he did not wonder what was wrong with the world. He knew that this was the world and he was not surprised. And so, he gave the child a gift of sorts. He granted the boy a name.  
“Look at me.” He demanded, not leaving room for the child to make any other choice. When the boy made eye contact he spoke again. “I will call you Asphodel Doe. You will respond to this name. You will answer to it. You will give me verbal answers.” The child’s green, green eyes widened and then he was sucked into the child’s mind.

Nothing. That was his first impression of the child’s, Asphodel’s, mind. It was like floating in nothingness. Just black everywhere all around. Severus reached out, feeling for something, anything in his mind. And just as he was going to pull himself away he saw a shimmer. He almost missed it. But it was there. And Severus stroked the shimmer. He wished he hadn’t.

Six years of abuse and hatred and conditioning crashed over him at once. The child truly didn’t know his name. And he didn’t know how old he was. But Severus knew. Severus suddenly was very aware that he had in his possession, one Harry James Potter, the Boy- Who- Lived. Who, by all of Albus’ accounts was in America with distant Potter relatives being spoiled rotten. He was rammed with six years worth of pain and hunger and loneliness and the desire, burning desire to be worthy. He latched on to the most recent memory before Severus had found him in the bathroom. A thin horse faced woman, Mistress, whom Severus recognized as Petunia Evans, hit Freak over the head with a frying pan before yelling at him to get out of the human’s kitchen. And Freak went and stood outside the back door and waited to be called in while the humans ate the food he had cooked. He did not want the food. He wasn’t worthy and he hadn’t earned it. What he wanted was to be worthy. And when Master called him in, he got into position and earned what was a Freak’s meal. And when Master told him what to do to finally be worthy, he was overjoyed. So he got in the boot of the car. And when Master hit him over the head, he went limp. And when Master smashed a mirror in a public loo, Freak did not react, and when Master put the shard into his hand and told him what to do Freak listened. And Master left him. Master told him to wait here and don’t leave, Death was coming for him. And Death did come.

Severus was out of the child’s mind now. Staring at him. Trying to figure out what to do. He would not tell Albus. He might tell the Dark Lord, if he would ever get around to coming back. Really it had been six years. And, today was Harry James Potter’s seventh birthday. And the day he died, Severus would make sure of it.

So he gathered Asphodel into his arms, the child giving no protest. And he calmly and methodically obliviated all the hospital staff of Asphodel’s stay.


	2. Gringotts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus arrives with Asphodel at Gringotts only to be confused.

His first stop was to Gringott’s. The goblins would know what to do. He cast a notice me not around the both of them. The goblins could see through it, but the wizards could not, and that was the point. He was led to an office that he had never been to before. The goblin spoke briskly, before he could even get out the formal greetings. “Thank Gornuk, we thought no one was getting the letters. Quickly, we only have a few hours or he will be lost to us.”

Severus was a clever man. He was not taken off guard easily and detested when he did not know something and rectified the oversight swiftly and immediately. “What in Morgana’s name are you talking about? I just wanted to do an inheritance test and possibly a cleansing and blood adoption. There were no letters involved. I walked in on him trying to slit his wrists in a muggle public loo. Now, tell me what is going on.”

There was, from what Severus could make out, an impressive amount of swearing in gobbledegook. “I am sorry, I will explain as quickly and as best I can, but we really need to start in the next hour if the boy has any chance. We have been trying to send letters to the magical guardian of Heir Potter. Whom you are now in possession of. We told Dumbledore when he came in here nearly six years ago what would happen today. He came in here, demanding that we run all kinds of scans on the newly orphaned Heir Potter. We told him that binds he had placed on Heir Potter’s core needed to be removed before the boy’s seventh birthday, that if they were not, it would kill his creature, burn out his core, and the Horcrux in Heir Potter, would merge with the host with no chance of being removed, if the Heir went through the inheritance as he was presented to us. He insisted that the boy was fine and he would bring him back to have them removed.

And so he did, on the boy’s third birthday he was brought in all the binds removed and he went through the first inheritance. And we thought that was the end of it. But, he put all the binds back, and increased them. We told him at seven they have to come off and stay off or the child will die before he reaches 17 and he will never be with his creature. It is a slow painful death. We have been trying to contact Dumbledore, reminding him for months. But we got no reply, so we went through the Potter’s will trying to contact all of the contacts listed. We were desperate, no one was answering. We didn’t think Dumbledore would have done it, but listed under absolutely do not contact was Lily Potter’s muggle family. We sent a letter the muggle way. Please, I can explain more in depth later, but if we don’t start the purges now, he will not live to the witching hour.”

  
“Okay,” Severus said. He addresses Asphodel. “Asphodel, you will go with the goblin and you will do exactly as he says. If you do not there will be severe consequences. Do you understand me?”

Asphodel looks up, “I understand Master Death. I will go with the goblin. I will do exactly as they say. If I do not there will be Consequences.” The boy recited. He fixed his gaze firmly back on the floor and waited for the goblin to tell him what to do.

The goblin cocked an eyebrow at Severus Prince. The child’s form of address for the man was strangely fitting. “I will explain more in depth once the Heir is free from his binds.” He said to Severus. To the child he turned and said, “Follow me, Asphodel.” Choosing to use Seveus’ name for the child. And the child did as he was bid. The goblin turned to check multiple times if the child was following, he just didn’t hear anyone following him, but each time the child was right behind him. And so was Severus.

Ironclaw, for that was the goblins name, led the two into a goblin healing chamber, where few had been admitted and even fewer found worthy of the healing it could grant. When Severus followed them into the room, he abruptly had to change plans. The room only allowed in those who needed healing and those who were worthy of it. If Severus was in the room he would need to undergo the same ritual. Two for one as it were. They would still charge him of course, but they would more than make up for it. He glanced at Severus, the man was sharp, he would give him that.

  
“Yes, I do know what this means and yes I will pay for it,” the man responded.

“Very well both of you undress and lay in the centre of the circle, arms wide and legs together.” At each cardinal direction he placed a candle. In the right hand, East, a yellow candle was placed for Air, in the left hand, West, a blue candle for Water. At their feet, South, a red candle for fire, and at their heads, North, A green candle for Earth. When he was finished lighting the candles, he took two bowls of potions and slicing each males right index finger allowing a drop of blood per year of life to be added to the potions. Beginning the incantations, he took the potion and allowed the potion to cover each body completely, in a thin film.

Next to Heir Potter he placed a mithril dagger engraved with snakes. This was what they would transfer the Horcrux in the Heir into. He had chosen this particular dagger for the ritual when the child was in here when he was three. Most did not realize that goblin forged weapons had magic inherent to them. While a goblin may forge a weapon, the weapon’s magic may destine them to another, similar to wizard’s saying “the wand chooses the wizard”. This dagger was interesting for a variety of reasons. The first was that it was a dagger at all. Mithril was a terrible material for a weapon, but that was the shape it took when forged. And second was the snakes, one engraved on each side with one side boasting onyx eyes and the other boasting fire opal. Odd choices of stone together. But what was really interesting was that put together the dagger was really more of a protection charm, touched by shadow and brought into light. Its power boosted when it was finished in the light of a blue, blood moon.

Completing the chants to rid them of any binds he began the ritual to safely move the Horcrux into the dagger. And then everything went wrong. The childe began screaming and thrashing, writhing as he fought to keep the Horcrux within him. And then it was over. He looked to the dagger to check that the Horcrux had transferred properly and was stunned. The Horcrux had not transferred into the dagger as intended. Instead the childe had absorbed the dagger into his body. But it no longer was a dagger. Instead the boy’s thin body had taken on a kind of mithril tattoo. Instead of an engraved dagger, the boys body had been engraved with swirls of mithril tracing out delicate snakes along either side of the boys spine, the head of each snake resting on the boys collar bone, tails curled at the base of his spine. The left snake with onyx eyes and the right with fire opal eyes.

* * *

 

Master Death and the goblin were looking a Freak, No Asphodel, too much. So, he did what he knew how to do. He went to make amends. First to his Master then to Master’s guest. He was on his knees and kissing his Master’s cock before he could stop him. If he did well enough, maybe they would let him keep this meal? But before he could do more than kiss it, he was pulled off of his knees, given two firm swats to his arse and told “No, Asphodel”. No, no, no! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He did it right. He did what Master said and Death did come. Where was the Devil and Muma and Dada? And why did they want to take Papa. He was the only thing Freak had. His secret. And they wanted to take him! He couldn’t let them. Even if it meant going back to Master and Mistress, his Papa would be there for him, always, he had promised. And Freak did something he hadn’t done in years. He cried.

* * *

 

While Severus was recovering he looked over to his little ward, his little flower. If he had known who he was and thought that the child was magical, he would have picked a different flower. One that didn’t mean regret. But he knew that if he changed the boy’s name now… well maybe he could. The boy did fight for the Horcrux. And as much as that scared Severus, he was relieved that the boy was able to want something for himself and to be able to fight for it, even against direct orders. It gave him hope. Maybe they could pick a new name together. But he really wasn’t holding out hope, he just didn’t want someone to tell the boy that he regretted him, because he didn’t.

But the boy’s interesting new tattoos were not the only physical changes to have occurred. Not only was the childe completely healed (at least physically) he was also sporting some new appendages. Two fluffy black fox ears topped the childe’s head, and a long bushy black tail protruded from his spine. When the childe went on his knees and kissed his cock, Severus knew he needed to get it through the childe’s head, in this moment that he was not to do that anymore. And like the errant childe he was, he delivered two firm swats to the childe’s behind and firmly told him, “No, Asphodel”. Knowing what he knew about the childe’s past he was shocked when the childe burst into tears. But silent tears, heartbreaking tears.

Severus knew that the childe didn’t understand. He had been cruelly manipulated and twisted. And his whole life changed in one day. Honestly, if the childe wasn’t already unstable, he would be worrying for the childe’s sanity. Severus knelt down and pulled the boy into a hug. He went stiff, and then lax as Severus settled the boy’s mouth at the junction of his neck and shoulder, encouraging him to smell, to feed. “Feed Asphodel,” he said. And he did, he bit with all his strength, which wasn’t much, but enough to get his little fangs in and pull a mouthful of his blood. The childe was ravenous which wasn’t surprising considering he had been starved for most of his life. He fed more than Severus was expecting, but not so much as to cause a problem.

It was a temporary solution he knew, but he needed to call his mate, he needed him. He looked at Asphodel, and was surprised to see green eyes looking directly at him. He took a seat as he recognized the feeling of Asphodel pulling him into his mind. But it was not Asphodel’s mind he was seeing, but a memory of his Lord’s. The message could not have been clearer. The boy had a father. He did not need Severus as a father. But it was still pulling and feeding did calm the childe. He bit back a groan. Now he had to talk to his mate.

* * *

 

“Ironclaw, may I use the floo to call my mate? And if he is found worthy may I request the same ritual for him?” Severus asked.

“Of course, Lord Prince, you and Lord Malfoy are some of our best clients” The Ironclaw replied. “We could call for you if you wish to stay with the childe.”

“I would appreciate it. Thank you Ironclaw. Could you ask him to retrieve the vials behind his father’s portrait? Tell him that the password is Heir of Walpurgis?” Severus returned.

While Ironclaw went to floo Lord Malfoy, Severus turned to focus on the childe, on his mate. He was conflicted, he was glad to have found his mate, but he was so young and hurt. Now, even more he wanted to change his little childe’s name, something that would remind him how worthy and loved he was. But first he needed to speak to his other mate and his Lord, his childe’s Papa.

Lucius and he knew that they had a third, a submissive, but with both of them only having a partial inheritance and the war they were unsure if they would ever find their submissive. To find him now, so young was both a blessing and a curse. Because of the childe’s abuse, his instincts would be tainted. Typically, if a mate was found this young, there was a parent already physically present and feeding the childe. But also the instincts would recognize how young the childe was and not push for any sexual relationship, until at least 13 but usually closer to 15 and 17. But with the abuse, Severus just didn’t know how the bond was going to react. He certainly did not view the childe in a sexual manner, but the childe did view him that way and he was unsure what would hurt the childe more. Allowing him to act, or stopping him and misunderstanding it as a rejection of the bond.

  
And then he had to deal with the childe’s understanding of what was happening. The childe was bright, but he just didn’t know how capable he was of understanding. How do you tell a child that was willing to go to hell and suffer an eternal agony just to be with their parents, that that wasn’t happening? Maybe his Lord would help. If he could prove that he and Lucius were willing and glad for being his mates, that they would take care of him and bring his Papa back to a physical body. Maybe that would work? Bringing himself out of his musings he focused on the naked childe sitting placidly in his lap. Severus conjured a soft green blanket and wrapped the childe in it. When the childe reached a hand back and stroked his wing, Severus started.

In all of the confusion and revelations and upset, Severus had not been as observant as usual. While he had noticed that his creature was fully released as was his core, he did not notice his own physical changes. Picking up the childe he went and stood in front of the mirror in the healing room. He looked himself up and down. Prior to the healing he was tall, with sallow, unhealthily pale skin. His nose had been broken too many times giving it a hooked appearance. His black hair looked lank, even without the protective potion that gave it an oily appearance. He had scars and his lower arms and legs had distinctly broken appearances. Gifts from his father that couldn’t be healed. Now, his skin was still pale, but glowing and healthy. The only mark on his body was his Lord’s, all of his broken bones fixed. His hair was soft and glossy. His black eyes glittered with life. His snaggled, yellow teeth straight and white. But the most startling difference were the leathery black wings he sported. They were reminiscent of a bat’s and there was a red and green sheen to them. They were beautiful. He knew the red signified Lucius and his veela, and he assumed the green was for the childe. He focused and hid the wings from view. He spelled his robes back on and saw Lucius enter from the reflection in the mirror.

  
The childe tensed as Lucius came striding forward, intent on embracing his mate. Lucius stopped short upon noticing the childe his mate held and the changes his mate had undergone. Hitching a white eyebrow, he looked to Severus for an explanation. “It is a very long story, and I don’t have all of it yet. What I do know is that someone harmed this childe and I found him. I brought him here to try and find some answers and when I got here, was told they had been trying to contact someone for months to get some bindings and a ritual removed before they permanently affected him. I was following them to the ritual healing room. But it can only be entered by someone in need of healing and judged to be worthy. So, I underwent the same cleansing. Luce. You are in the room, it is this room. I was never a part vampire, my creature was bound. I think your veela is bound. Please, love, will you do the cleansing. I haven’t told you everything. But I will, I just want you free first.” Severus pleaded with his blonde mate, near tears with the stress of the day.

“Oh, my Sevré. Of course, I will do the cleansing. But we are having a very long discussion and figuring all of this out after. Hello, petit renardeau vert. My name is Lucius.” Lucius introduced himself.

The wide green eyes met his at the first syllable of his name, that quickly drop as he finishes. Lucius shoots his mate a questioning look as gets a flat, tired look in response. He turns to Ironclaw, “May I do the cleasing now. I have a feeling we have a long night ahead of us and I would like to get started. And thank you for allowing us to be healed and cleansed.”

“Of course, Lord Malfoy, the three of you are extremely important to Gringotts. I will be happy to explain everything after the cleansing. It should take less than an hour once we begin. If you will, undress and lie in the center of the circle, arms spread wide and legs together.” Ironclaw followed the same ritual as he had for the other two earlier in the day. As Lucius underwent the cleansing ritual, Severus and the childe watched. Severus stroked the childe’s ears and hair with one hand and traced the snakes over the blanket with the other hand, eyes transfixed on his older mate. The childe was lax in his arms, not necessarily relaxed, but exhausted and pliant.

* * *

 

Freak was tired. Nothing was making sense. He just wanted to see Muma and Dada. Master Death was not acting in any sensible way. He wouldn’t let him prove his worth or let him earn a meal. He smacked his arse after he tried to make amends, and instead of being mad after he was weak, he gave him a meal, a real one and didn’t ask for anything. Freak didn’t understand why Master Death did the cleansing ritual. He was Death? How could he be dirty like Freak? But after the ritual, Master Death was beautiful. Freak thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if such a beautiful worthy being as Death kept him around. He was so gentle and kind. He fed him at a cost to himself and had yet to ask for anything in return. Freak was transfixed with Master Death’s new wings. They were so strong and beautiful, black and dancing with red and green. He couldn’t resist reaching out to caress one. He hardly noticed Master Death wrapping him in a soft blanket. Freak did notice when Master Death carried him and stood in front of the mirror. While Master Death looked at himself, Freak took the chance to look at himself in the mirror too.

At first Freak didn’t realize he was looking at himself. He didn’t know what the being in the mirror was. But then he realized what the ritual did. It made it so people could see he was a freak. His Master and Mistress always told him he wasn’t human, was less than a pet even, cause at least people loved their pets. And they were right. Freak wasn’t a human or even good enough to be a pet, he was a Freak. But, Death had wings, so maybe, no. Death was a Master, he was worthy and strong. Not weak and useless like Freak. Freak looked away from the mirror in time to see a new man walk into the room.

Freak tensed and looked down at the ground. He knew he should be kneeling at Master Death’s feet right now, but Master Death wanted to hold him, so he would let him. But he would remember his place and not disappoint his Master. The new man was just as beautiful as Master Death. He was pale and had white hair and ice blue eyes. He heard Master Death call him “Luce”. Maybe this was the Devil! He knew the Devil was a fallen angel called Lucifer. Maybe “Luce” was short for Lucifer? The man was beautiful enough to be an angel. Was Master Death going to give him away to be with Muma and Dada now? He wanted to be with Muma and Dada, but Master Death had been so nice, Freak thought he would miss him. But he knew he wasn’t worthy of a Master as good as Death. When he realized that “Luce” was talking to him he looked up briefly, remembering that Master Death wanted him to look at him when he spoke to him. But he quickly looked down, when the man introduced himself as “Lucius”. So, this wasn’t the devil angel, Lucifer then. He found himself relieved that he wouldn’t have to leave Master Death just yet. He did wonder what “petit renardeau vert” meant. It sounded beautiful.

Lucius lay down in the circle like Freak and Master Death had done earlier. He wondered why this beautiful man needed to be cleansed. Master Death was holding him in his lap and stroking his new ears and tracing something on his back. It felt nice, but Freak didn’t know what Master Death wanted. So, he stayed limp and let Master do as he wanted while he watched what was happening to Lucius.

Lucius began to glow softly and then was lifted off the ground and wings came out of his back. They were different from Master Deaths. Lucius’ were feathered and looked like angel wings. Like Master Death's they had a two- tone sheen to them. One colour was black and the other was the same green as Master Death’s. Freak wonders what the colours mean, if it’s the same as the snake eye colours that his new marks have. Freak watches as Lucius walks over to the mirror, looking over the changes his body has gone through. He watches as Lucius runs a hand over his feathered wings and shivers slightly. When Lucius comes over to the two of them, Master Death lets his wings out again and Freak is struck by how beautiful these two men are. When Lucius inhales, his eyes snap to Freak and he turns to Master Death, “Severus, I would like an explanation. Now.” Freak shudders at the sharp tone and scrutinising stare.


End file.
